witchcraft and innovation
by crispycrumblycrust
Summary: Magic. It's something witches can't live without. Hecate's experienced it firsthand.


_There are regular witches, minding their own business, and then there is HB._

* * *

Hecate remembers the torture, it will forever be engraved in her mind.

Ada trapped in her family painting, Ada replaced with her sister, the twin bringing with her Miss Gullet. The Academy reformed. The students in danger. But most of all, the restricted use of magic, of _all_ magic.

So used has she been to magic.

She struggled, naturally. It was...strange, forced to do anything the longer way, the inefficient way. The manual way. It stirred memories of when she was a little child, her parents punishing her whenever she wronged them. One of the more crueler methods included forbidden use of magic for days. She didn't like it then, and certainly didn't like it later.

It even affected Morgana, lackluster, not interested in treats, brushing off her affection and ignoring her presence.

Everything combined, it might had prompted drastic measures and the folly decision to take back what she could, causing Hecate to be removed from the board – the game – too.

Of course, after everything was turned back to normal, the moment she was freed from her prison, pastel and oil and beside Ada, she felt reborn. The tingle of magic coursing through her body revitalised her. Hecate used it for good, to grab and shackle Gullet.

She had personally seen to it that, with the help of the Great Wizard, never again Agatha and Gullet would be allowed to do anything like that ever again. She even added a bit of flashiness in her demonstration. A part of her remained hesitant. Trapping witches in the same space could be dangerous – there were better prisons, there were better ways to ensure safety – but she had faith in herself. The magic humming inside her agreed. She had faith in the Great Wizard. He agreed with this penalty and gave his blessing. More importantly, she could never refuse Ada anything. This was at her request. Hecate merely obeyed.

That was a few weeks ago. During these weeks, she has used magic whenever possible – just because she could – much to the amusement of Ada, and the horror of the students, appearing behind them and stopping whatever mischief they are up to.

Now, Hecate is watching her talking on the phone. As expected, she isn't using the mirror. Normally, she's frowning and tapping a finger on the desk. But none of that today.

Perhaps, for the first time, she is beginning to understand Ada's view: tradition and the Witches Code must be upheld, but not at the cost of progression and change.

Oh, how useless Hecate is without magic, how hopeless in her attempts to regain any form of control and protection during Agatha's impromptu's reign. To free Ada – so close, she _had_ her, a few more seconds and she would have succeeded.

It dawns on her – in the same, swift way she was pulled in the painting – she is _nothing_ without magic. Are they truly safe now? Is that painting as secure as it should be? Hecate tests the shackles every day and strengthens the protection spells in and around the Academy when needed.

While Ada thrives with, or without magic.

Ada always has been the wiser, stronger one.

She ends the call, and Hecate crosses of the corresponding name on the list. One more family reassured. No, they don't need to transfer their daughter to a different Academy. Yes, this is Ada Cackle speaking, not anybody else, and yes, she personally ensures that nothing like this will ever happen again.

Hecate eyes the next family on the register and purses her lips. The next one may become a challenge, perhaps she can convince Ada to let her take care of this one.

She's in the middle of making an acceptable excuse when she notices Ada standing up. She walks to the _other_ sitting area, the one she uses when a softer touch is required, a more intimate climate. Or when she's decided that it's time for tea. She won't accept a no from Hecate.

Sighing, she lays the documents on the desk and tries not to see how much work she – _they –_ leaves undone. Summer vacation for the children doesn't equal summer vacation for the faculty.

Hecate remains where she is – her only sign of rebellion.

But, as always, she can't take her eyes off Ada. She never can. Ada always draws her in, seemingly without effort. Hecate turns in her chair and faces her.

It takes a while for the water to boil. Two, small spells are enough to prepare and conjure the tea, but Hecate has suffered the consequences the first time she did exactly that. It was the first time she saw the underlying strength and danger, previously lulled by gentle words and bright sweaters and glasses perched on her nose. The memory now brings a smile to her face.

Ada opens the box and glances at her. She shakes her head, always letting Ada to choose. So far, she has yet to taste tea that her palate doesn't agree with.

Adding the leaves to the water, both follow the progress carefully. She's soaking in Ada's presence, the same way the tea leaves are soaking in the water. Except, Ada adds flavour to _her._

Ada is humming softly. The lullaby can send her straight to sleep.

Hecate comes to her when the tea is finished, accepts her cup in silence and sits on the couch, the soft cushions so different from the chairs in front of the desk. She allows herself one biscuit and positions the saucer away from Ada when she attempts to heap a few more on it – predictable.

She only lowers her guard when Ada plops down on the other couch with a pleased sigh.

They drink in silence, Ada enjoying her biscuits as much as the tea.

After she has finished her second cup, Hecate determines that enough time has passed. Recess is over, it's time to continue. Ada doesn't protest and follows her back to the desk. She does raise an eyebrow when Hecate transports the used cups and saucers to the kitchen with a simple spell.

Hecate smiles innocently, but it fades when she eyes the task they've halted and remembers the next name on the list. She takes a deep breath and braces herself.

"Ada, may I... _phone_ the next one?" she asks, that word leaving from her mouth as foreign there as it is in her mind. _Once,_ she leaves _is_ her deputy after all, it's expected from her to lessen any sorts of burden.

Ada doesn't comment, but the sudden smile tells her enough: she's seen right through her intentions – she always does. She holds the horn for her and wriggles her eyebrows. Of course, Ada can't resist teasing her when given the opportunity. The unsaid words, easily imagined, flow clearly in her mind. _F_ _inally_ _admitting defeat_ _, Hecate, and ready to embrace the wonders of technology?_

Hecate holds her gaze with what she hopes is an aloof mask, clearly unimpressed and definitely not taking the bait. It cracks when, underneath the satisfaction, something deeper and stronger than fondness is showing on Ada's face.

She lowers her gaze and focuses her attention on the phone, not knowing what else to do, what to say, how to act.

Ada, bless her, understands and helps her. Their fingers touch when she passes her the receiver, as if to say _I understand_ _and I love you_ _._

Hecate doesn't deserve her. She wonders what Ada sees in her.

She mentally shakes her head – she'll deal with it later, always later – and focuses on the task in front of her. This always feels peculiar, so used to mirrors and letters as forms of communication. But when the phone connects and a voice answers, she slips into her deputy role with ease.

One call turns into two calls, to three, four, five, until she's in a flow. Together, they work through the list.

Hecate rests the horn on the phone and as they share a glance, she realises that they are finished for today, even if her mind is ready to remind her of countless things that require her attention – no rest for weak and lazy minds.

Besides, it's about time for the short patrol – on her broom – around the castle before supper. Even if there are no students here, only a handful of staff, that is still no reason to turn a blind eye and neglect her duties.

She stands, but halts before she transfers. Ada is nudging the stacks of papers, trying to create a semblance of order on her desk. Her hands itch, organisation spells eager to be cast, but she controls that impulse. When their eyes meet, she sees the confusion on her face, but also the warmth and affection, never far behind.

Hecate makes a decision. The broom can wait, it's barely evening. She's merely shifting her schedule – swapping her evening patrol in the castle with the one done outside. And adding company.

She walks around the desk and, comes closer and closer until she is right in front of her. With one movement, she offers Ada her arm.

Ada freezes and stares at her useless limb. Hecate tenses, thinking that the dreaded day has finally arrived: she has gone too far, presumed too much and now has ruined everything. But then Ada grins, so bright and pleasant it even reaches her. It warms her and makes her _feel_ things.

She's glad that Ada doesn't tease, doesn't talk – Hecate will disappear in a flash and pretend nothing has happened. She remains still as Ada links their arms, squeezing her biceps in silence.

They take a few steps towards the door before she halts. Hecate stops too, concern turning her stomach. Not knowing what to expect, she dares a glance, but certainly not hesitation and a hushed apology as Ada gestures to her face.

Hecate holds back a chuckle. But of course she has forgotten that her spectacles are still resting on the end of her nose.

Ada touches the frame. Before she can take it off, Hecate transfers it, safely placing it back in the leather case...somewhere in this office.

Magic still has its uses. She has saved them a few, precious minutes. Besides, she likes Ada where she is: right beside her, her hand resting on the crook of her arm and sighing in mild exasperation at her antics.


End file.
